


Waited Long Enough That I Could Never Call You

by ChapstickJunkie



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Sad Will Schofield, i made myself sad writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23985331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChapstickJunkie/pseuds/ChapstickJunkie
Summary: I've been leaving your shampoo bottles,over in the corner there.Sittin' empty on the bathtub rail,wishin' they could wash your hair.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic to the song Shampoo Bottles by Peach Pit. I really suggest you listen to it to get maximum sad while reading this.

Tom's shampoo sits mockingly on the edge of the bathtub. All pink and floral in stark contrast to Will’s own. Will reaches down against his better judgement, snapping open the lid and breathing in the sweet scent of cherry blossom. 

Will remembers Tom buying it. How he teased him about buying women’s shampoo as he placed it in their cart. “It smells good,” Tom has shrugged, “I’ve been using it since I was like twelve, you haven’t complained yet.”

Tom was right. It did smell nice. Fresh and sweet like cherries, making little pink bubbles as Will scrubbed it into the younger man's hair. Tom's eyes closed in pleasure as Will washed his hair. He loved the feeling, he’d said, of Wills hands in his hair. All the time; combing through it with his fingers as they cuddled up to take a nap, playing with it as they watched a movie, tugging on it as they had sex. 

Will swallowed, setting the bottle back down. Turning the label away so it couldn’t mock him again. He should just throw it away. It’s been months. He needs to get rid of it, needs to move on. It’s unhealthy, really. 

Will washes his hair with Tom's shampoo. 

When he goes to bed, he’s surrounded by the smell of Tom. In his hair, on his clothes, in his bed. Like the boy had never stopped sleeping beside him. He falls asleep surrounded by cherry blossom and, for just a moment, he doesn’t remember the biggest mistake he ever made. 

He wakes up in the morning to an empty bed lingering with the smell of sweetness, and it’s like Tom left all over again. Will remembers how long he waited, to wash Tom’s left behind pillow case, not wanting to lose the smell of him. The tiny details of the best relationship he ever threw away. 

Tom’s deodorant, tucked behind his on the bathroom shelf. 

Tom's toothbrush, tossed carelessly beside the sink. 

Tom’s phone charger, still plugged into the wall of his bedroom. 

Will feels like a creep sometimes, surrounded by all these memories of a person he should just let go of. Feels bad for keeping them around. 

But every time he goes to throw them out he just feels worse. 

Like maybe if he doesn’t tuck Tom's spare key into the kitchen drawer correctly, Tom will come back to do it. 

If he doesn’t patch the hole in the drywall from the whiskey bottle he threw at it, Tom will come back to do it. 

If he doesn’t collect himself properly, Tom will come back to do it. 

No, that’s not fair. Will scolds himself as he pops the lid off his meds. It had never been Tom's job to fix him. 

“You need to see a doctor, a psychiatrist, someone, Will, please!” Tom had pleaded. “I can’t keep staying up all night worrying if you’re going to come home! Worrying if you’re alive or...or not, and then you come home and you refuse to talk to me about it! I want to help you Will, because I love you, but you have to let me in.”

Will doesn’t remember his response. Only that it made Tom cry. 

Only that it was cruel enough to wash out all the love in Tom’s sweet blue eyes and drown them instead in sadness. 

Only that it was mean enough to push the man he loved out of his life permanently. 

Will wished it had taken less than Tom leaving for him to listen. 

For him to start taking his meds on time. 

For him to start seeing his therapist. 

For him to get his shit together enough to realize just how in love with Tom he had been. 

Will worked a lot these days. 

He didn’t have anything better to do. It kept his hands busy, kept his thoughts distracted. Lauri was a good boss. She could tell when Will started to get lost in his own head. She knew when she needed to push an extra crate of books into his arms telling him to “shelve these, and check the prices while you’re at it.” 

Today was one of those days. Will gratefully accepted the extra assignments, restocking dusty Shakespeare onto the shelves when a flash of red catches his eye outside the window. 

A jacket sleeve. 

A familiar jacket sleeve. 

A red jacket sleeve with a thin yellow stripe. 

Tom's jacket sleeve. 

Passing on the sidewalk outside of the bookstore. 

Will lets the copy of Hamlet slip from his fingers back onto the shelf. Lets his feet carry him out the door and down the street. Running desperately after Tom's disappearing figure. It seems he’s been doing everything against his better judgement these days. 

Will slides around the corner and stops short. He didn’t make plans for this. He didn’t think he’d get this far. 

Toms stands with his back to Will, distracted by a message on his phone. He looks better than he ever did with Will. There’s something relaxed in his posture. There’s no fidget in his hands. He cut his hair, Will notes, it’s short now. Too short to really run your hands through. 

He's almost glowing in the morning sun. He looks like angelic, completely at peace with the world, until he turns and catches sight of Will, and his face drops. 

“Will?” Tom's brow furrowed as a frown works it’s way across his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Will offers, he shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t worth seeing Tom again only to bring that sadness back into his face. 

Tom raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. All of it. I was wrong. I was messed up. I needed real help, you were right.” 

Tom inhaled sharply. Will doesn’t think he could stop now if he tried. 

“I’ve started seeing a therapist. I take my meds on time. I’m doing better. I should have done better. For you. You deserved so much better than what I gave you. I didn’t realize how much you did for me, how much you meant to me, until you left.”

Tom’s eyes clouded over in sadness and he glanced over as the door of the building they stood in front of opened. “I’m sorry, Will.” 

A dark haired man stepped out of the building and wrapped an arm around Tom's waist, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

Tom worried his lip as he turned away from Will, sliding his hand into the other man's palm as they started down the street. 

Will watches the man whisper gently in Tom's ear, glancing back at Will. Tom shakes his head at whatever was said. Will watches as Tom squeezes the man's hand three times in quick succession, the way he used to for Will, _I love you _, and Will feels his heart shatter.__


	2. You can have a happy ending I suppose. As a treat.

Toms stands with his back to Will, distracted by a message on his phone. He looks better than he ever did with Will. There’s something relaxed in his posture. There’s no fidget in his hands. He cut his hair, Will notes, it’s short now. Too short to really run your hands through. 

He's almost glowing in the morning sun. He looks angelic, completely at peace with the world, until he turns and catches sight of Will, and his face drops. 

“Will?” Tom's brow furrowed as a frown works it’s way across his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Will offers, he shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t worth seeing Tom again only to bring that sadness back into his face. 

Tom raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. All of it. I was wrong. I was messed up. I needed real help, you were right.” 

Tom inhaled sharply. Will doesn’t think he could stop now if he tried. 

“I’ve started seeing a therapist. I take my meds on time. I’m doing better. I should have done better. For you. You deserved so much better than what I gave you. I didn’t realize how much you did for me, how much you meant to me, until you left.”

Sadness clouds Tom’s eyes. “It’s been months.” 

Will looks down in shame, “I know.”

“And you never texted. You never called. You never did anything to stop me from leaving. You just...left me alone.” Tom wipes at his eyes, crying in anger. 

“I know,” Will repeats. “I was so fucking stupid. I should have fought for you. For us. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You still are.” 

“Will.” Tom's mouth opens as though he means to speak, but he only sighs, shaking his head helplessly. 

“I wanted to call you. But as more and more time passed, it just-“ Will grasped at his explanation as it fell apart in his mouth, “I just waited long enough that I could never call you.” 

Tom’s face is guarded, “That’s a weak excuse and you know it.” 

“I know.” Will pleads, “and I’m so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can do to change the way I acted. I just-“ Will ran a worried hand through his hair, “I want you to know that I’ve changed. I’m working on my problems. I’m getting better.” Will wove his fingers back through his hair, he knew it must look like a mess at this point. “I still have your phone charger.” He offered weakly. 

Tom furrowed his brow, “It’s been a long time, Will. You know we can’t just go back to the way we were.”

Will feels his heart collapse. Of course, what had he been thinking? That Tom would take him back after he had fucked up so many times?

“But, if you want to get coffee sometime, it would be nice to get my charger back.” Tom finished quietly. 

Will felt a smile beam across his face. The first true one in months. Yes. Yes. “Yes. I would like that so much.” He could do this. It would take work and patience and so much time, but Will would do it all. He would trade all the time in the world for a single day of Tom beside him. He would do anything. And he would make sure Tom knew it this time. Knew how much he loved him. 

“Alright then,” Tom nodded, reluctant hope showing on his face, “I suppose we’ll meet sometime soon?”

“Yes,” Will agreed. “I look forward to it.”

A small smile stretched its way across Tom’s face. “I do, too.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

“God this place looks just the same as when I left.” Tom laughs. 

Will cringes inwardly at the memory. 

Tom trailed his fingers along the kitchen counter,“A bit cleaner, though.” He stopped at his old spare key sitting out on the counter, opening the drawer and tucking it back in its place. 

Will watches Tom move around his kitchen. Hanging his jacket by the door. Tossing his backpack next to the couch. Setting his keys on the counter. 

Leaving little pieces of himself all over Will’s apartment. 

Will is in love with the sight. 

Tom catches him staring. “What?” He blushed, suddenly shy as Will approached him. 

“Nothing,” Will lovingly brushed Tom's curling hair out of his eyes. He’s been growing it out again. “I just love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Tom whispers, letting Will kiss him gently. 

Will smiles against his mouth, pulling Tom to his chest in a hug, happy to stand there holding Tom in the setting sunlight for the rest of his life. Tom tucks his face into Will’s collarbone and the taller man pulls him even closer, burying his face in Tom's curly hair. 

He still smells like cherry blossoms. 

He still smells like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna write two endings, happy and sad, but gave up after just the sad one. Maybe I'll write an alternative ending but only if you b e g


End file.
